Fourth-grader Michael Thomas plucks the broccoli from among his mixed vegetables, ignoring the carrots and cauliflower. His friends avoid that corner of the lunch tray altogether. And Michael doesn't ask for their leftovers.

"The only way I can eat that is if they put zesty Italian sauce on it," says Cerrell Petty, 9, from across the lunchroom table at Ridgecrest Elementary School in Huntsville.

Today's lunch is seven chicken nuggets with sweet and sour sauce, two halves of the most unpopular kiwi, the mandatory milk, a fluffy biscuit and a somewhat overlooked side of steamed vegetables. For an extra 30 cents, students can buy a carton of pineapple orange juice.

Across the country, kids are getting fatter. A recent study by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention estimates that 15 percent of Americans ages 6 to 19 are overweight. That's triple the rate in 1980. And people are quick to blame everything from video game lethargy to single parents who don't cook, to the school menu.

Ruth Brown, director of the lunchroom at Ridgecrest, hears it often. "I know a lot of people are blaming the school food. But it's not. It starts at home," says Brown. "It always starts at home."

It's no secret that children can be picky eaters. Watch Cerrell. She tears the chicken nuggets into small pieces. She shreds the biscuit, too. From there, she begins to lift small nibbles from the piles. Children develop eating habits and preferences at home, says Brown.

Like most here, Cerrell enjoys today's main course. Nuggets are familiar. They're fast food. They are the American staple.

"Pizza is the best," says Michael Thomas, down the table from Cerrell, "because it's always cheesy."

"Greasy," says Cerrell, who prefers hot wings to anything served at school.

"Cheesy," argues Michael. "Greasy," retorts Cerrell.

Cerrell is destined to lose this argument. Most of the kids at Ridgecrest adore pizza. It's a close call between that and the nuggets. And some of them throw in hamburgers. These favorites mirror the top choices outside school.

The problem with such fatty favorites is that childhood obesity often leads to adult obesity, according to the CDC. And that is linked with any number of health problems, from asthma to heart disease to diabetes.

But at Ridgecrest, Brown is quick to note that not all fast-food favorites have to be cooked the same way.

But Cerrell and Michael wouldn't qualify as heavy for their age. One sizable boy in an untucked football jersey does order double nuggets; he's an exception.

Regardless, not many children here like green foods. Not even the sweet ones.

"Is that kiwi?" asks one third-grade girl. "Ewwww."

Some fourth-grade boys compare the hairy fruit to orangutans. A few squeeze the neon flesh all over their trays and biscuits without taking a nibble.

"Ewww," repeats one lunch lady, mimicking the little girl. "But it's good for you." Still no sale.

By high school, the lunchrooms surrender to the inevitable. Elementary and middle schools have limited options and attempt to cultivate a preference for a balanced diet. By high school, students are free to munch hot dogs and pizza almost every day. In Huntsville, they can buy chips and cookies in the lunchline every day.

"There are some very healthy choices. Or there are the fried foods," says Carol Wheelock, who oversees all the lunchrooms for Huntsville City Schools. "High school kids are going to eat what they want. If you don't have anything they want, they won't eat."

What do children want?

Sit with another group of fourth-graders across the room. Here pizza is the favorite. Nuggets come in second. "I hate green stuff," says Percy Grays.

Another boy says he eats steak and salad at home. He even ate Percy's vegetables today. But he is another sort of exception.

"Steak-Out," says Percy, listing his favorites. "Pizza Hut."

"Domino's, McDonald's, Burger King," adds Royal Dorsey, who brought crunchy, flaming hot Cheetos from home to augment his school lunch.

"I like Twix, Snickers," says Percy. The boys link candy bars with a preference for K-Swiss shoes. For these boys, food talk leads naturally to name brands.

Wheelock says school lunches have evolved over the years. Children no longer look for the generic meatloaf and fried chicken they saw at home. In fact, many do not like chicken on the bone at all, she says. And they don't care for fish these days. So the schools try to introduce new items, such as tangerines and fajitas.

As far as healthy eating, Wheelock sees mixed signals.

Many high school kids today buy bottled water with lunch. Plus, Huntsville began offering a salad or sandwich option to all middle school students this year. That's proven fairly popular, she says. At Ridgecrest, the boxed salad is even used as a reward for good behavior among the younger students.

"Salads they eat as long as you give them ranch dressing," Brown says.

There are no sodas in any elementary in Huntsville. "It's not allowed," says Brown. "That's just sugar."

But the schools can't control what kids bring from home.

Sitting across from Cerrell, Chris Smith picks through his daily lunch box. Michael bums a few Doritos from Chris most days. Chris keeps the peanut butter sandwich, fruit roll-up and two Milky Ways for himself.

As the third-graders finish lunch, about 20 stroll by, all but five or six leaving vegetables untouched on their trays. A couple have picked out just the carrots or perhaps the cauliflower.

It varies. Or maybe it's better to count the fifth-graders passing the serving line. They have more say in what the lunch ladies stack on their trays. By now, mixed vegetables have run out and been replaced with steamed broccoli. In one random run of 15 fifth-graders, 10 adamantly refuse any broccoli at all.

"No broccoli. I hate broccoli," announces fifth-grader Whitney Turner, who says she might eat green beans but passes on the school veggies most days.

"You want broccoli?" the lunch lady asks the next fifth-grader in line.